Ouroboros Spine snow blade

it was not where she wished to be. akmaaksi found the winterstorm's trail when she and @Tautukpik had come back to the village.

she swallowed anger until it singed her gut; she jerked her muzzle toward grandmother's ulaq, pace quickening in anticipated misery.

her gaze did not invite interpretation as moonwoman lifted her head in curiosity, glancing from firegirl to owlbrother.

would she let them go? akmaaksi looked toward her sibling again, near desperate in her own way for him to speak, to ask freedom before the man they once called aapa showed himself again. 

Up the mountain, through the passages of the village trees, and secret ways known to children; avoiding eyes, mostly the winter-man if he lurked.

(Wishing too to be caught. Wishing to confront! To shout! To run. Conflicted.)

They came to the sleeping-place of grandmother and upon entering, spared glances between siblings before —

We are leaving. The announcement rushed out of him. The most he had spoken to any adult in months! There would be no room for discussion and he made this clear with the resolute set of his jaw.

His eyes wandered a little though, his ears twisted; listening, hypervigilant.

tautukpik and akmaaksi were young, but kukutux was unsure they had ever been children.

her eyes moved in silence from one face to the other.

"but your father has just returned to the village," the duck murmured. "will you tell him? and where will you go?"

in whose name?

she did not demand from her grandchild. but these questions were her right to ask, and her responsibility to see that she had answers.

fornesjka raised its head. the eyes of akmaaksi and tautukpik shone a sweeter hope even if she understood deeply why they would leave what they had always known.

scheming grandmother was quiet.

owlbrother spoke true. akmaaksi's heart galloped so fast she knew she would be dizzied again. sick.

and so firegirl kept her eyes on the ground, though her ears were lifted for all sounds, the words she comprehended but never spoke.

maybe it was Sedna who had taken her voice. perhaps that had been her gift for anaa's own journey to the dancing lights.

strangely was akmaaksi comforted by this.

She was passive, even as she watched and questioned. The mention of their father did not help; Tautukpik braced against it as one would hold fast against a gusting wind.

We choose this. Firmly again he exerts control, or tries to. There are no answers for grandmother because the boy does not know; he wants something from his father and cannot fathom what, he wants Akmaaksi happy again and knows what must be done for her.

If grandmother needed reasons, he would have to think quickly.

For Nutuyikruk. He had not spoken her name in so long that it tastes strange, disjointed, to his tongue. For family. Leaning now against Akmaaksi to show support but also leech some strength, because she is the strongest person he knows.

If he is here, we will not be. As focused as Tautukpik appeared and as dominant as he was trying to be, he felt his eyes stinging with a mist of emotion. The slightest apology settled in his eyes.

by rights, kukutux must stop them. must forbid it.

but she understood her words were not able to bind them here; they would only come to resent the land of their sunshine mother.

and this was intolerable even in thought for her.

she had spoken of akmaaksi for one home, for tautukpik for another.

yet they were not to be broken apart. 

kukutux stood, and reached her arms gently to them. but even if they did not come forward, her whisper was for grandson first;

"i gave to your spirit the name nalunaitchuk."

and to granddaughter;

"i gave to your spirit the name ikualiaktuk."

now her eyes seemed to sheen with the same emotion; a constriction to her throat. "do not forget the name of moonglow. do not forget Sedna," she implored them. "and if i do not see your faces again, guard these names and give new ones down."

there was no mention of the father they had rejected. these children were siqniq and no other word might change the duck's mind.

spirit names were to be whispered at the time of manhood, at the moment of first mothering.

but tautukpik and akmaaksi stood now upon a new path.

with them she would send packs of meat and of berries; of good fat.

but kukutux did not allow herself to beg that they stay, not even when her eyes blurred and she knew she must tell aiolos.

a tearing.

it hurt.

but with this pain, grandmother would not send hunters to follow. no one would hold worry as they had for nutuyikruk.

no one would be lost.

ikualiaktuk.

ah — she cradled it so hard that her eyes began to fill with tears, and her arms held grandmother snow duck close, close.

for a moment she allowed herself even to be held.

grief; akmaaksi decided it would not hunt her until they were far from moonglow village.

Expecting resistance, it was with great surprise and humility that Tautukpik was received by open arms and soft words. Names bestowed, secret things now known among them together, which held the magic of their anaa and their grandmother, and their people. He did not know how he felt in that moment as Akmaaksi crumbled in to that embrace. He wanted to resist it—but found himself unable to.

When they parted, they would go and collect what was to be spared, and they would descend the mountain. There persisted a part of Tautukpik that wished their aapa could see them, could stop them; but he saw the hurting in Akmaaksi, and the relief, and the trepidation, and knew he had to remain the anchor. He could not trust their father to be that.

They would go from the village and make their own path.

kukutux watched their gangly frames turn to small notes upon the spine's horizon.

how much more will you take from me, Sedna?

what else must i give?

akmaaksi had perhaps been intended to inherit if nantahala did not return.

now another possible moonwoman had left her nest and flown away on youthful wings.

the last of ariadne's children, departed.

and her anger rose hot and fiery, not for them but for the winterhawk who had driven them away.

how much he has cost me!